


Everyone is King When There's No One Left to Pawn

by sunlightselkie



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Aithusa Deserved Better, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon Dies (Merlin), BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Canon Temporary Character Death, Court Sorcerer Merlin (Merlin), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, Good Aithusa, Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, I'm sorry Merlin, It's temporary don't worry, M/M, Merlin is a Little Shit, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Post-Canon Fix-It, Protective Merlin, So much angst, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, healed aithusa, merlin has nightmares
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:21:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25178332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunlightselkie/pseuds/sunlightselkie
Summary: [On Hiatus, not really in the Merlin fandom right now but that could change in the future!]After fifteen hundred years, Merlin has almost too many memories to process. His mind is an ocean, and most of his tragically long life lies just beneath the surface- just out of his reach. But there are some things that are hard to forget.~~~Yet another fix-it fic, going from Arthur's passing to modern day.
Relationships: Aithusa & Merlin (Merlin), Gaius & Merlin (Merlin), Gwen & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Gwen & Leon (Merlin), Gwen & Merlin (Merlin), Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Gwen/Leon (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	1. A Golden Age

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I know that Merlin was ages ago but I only watched it just recently and was absolutely torn to bits by the ending, so here’s me channeling my sadness into fanfiction. Also, first chapter is a bit short because this is my first fic on ao3 and I forgot that you have a time limit to post your drafts ;-;
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or any of the characters/plot/storyline.  
> Title borrowed from BRMC's Beat The Devil's Tattoo.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur is dead, and Merlin hurts.

Numb.

That was all Merlin could feel as he watched that damned lake hours after Arthur’s boat melted into the mist. It was so _easy_ to close his eyes and imagine Arthur as he had been only days before, burying his face in soft blankets as Merlin attempted to rouse him. But when Merlin finally opened his eyes, he was only met with sun-dappled lake water lapping almost apologetically at his boots. He recoiled and scrambled up the bank, nails digging into dirt, where he promptly vomited into a patch of clover.

This was the start of a lifelong phobia of water.

He sat there, shaking, for a good fifteen minutes until he finally stumbled almost drunkenly under the cover of the trees, where Merlin mechanically picked up the driest wood he could find and started a fire with flint and steel. He didn’t use his magic. The thought of it made him want to do a repeat performance of his earlier retching.

When Percival found him hours later, he hadn’t moved an inch from his spot next to the long-dead fire. The man only collapsed next to Merlin, eyes staring down at his unsteady and bloodied hands.

“Morgana?” Percival croaked. Merlin didn’t look up.

“Dead.”

“...Good.” Merlin disagreed. Percival hadn’t known the soul she’d been before everything went so wrong, but considering the lack of Gwaine’s rambunctious presence, that would be the worst thing he could say at the moment. The hollow behind his ribcage yawned wider. It had been growing since Freya, and he had a sickening feeling it would never be sated.

On their way back to Camelot the next morning, they nearly tripped over Morgana’s body. Her eyes gazed sightlessly into the sky, and the grass and roots around her were beginning to cling and grow on her clothes, as if nature was trying to reclaim the last high priestess.

They left her to the flora.

The next day found them trudging wearily into Camelot’s gates. The minute they were spotted, a guard set off running towards the castle, no doubt gone to fetch Gwen.

To any of the other citizens, the queen looked resplendent in red as she flew down the steps, but Merlin noticed the way the edges of her mouth pulled down, and how her hair was frizzy around the edges like she’d been fidgeting with it. He could see the flickering hope in her eyes die out when she didn’t see a blond head between Merlin and the knight.

Gwen ushered them both into the castle, to the round table, where the three of them stared at each other. Then a tear traced it’s way from Gwen’s left eye to her chin, and she and Merlin were sobbing into each other’s shoulders within seconds.

“I-I’m sorry, Gwen, I’m so _sorry_ ,” Merlin gasped, voice breaking as he clutched at her sleeves, desperately begging her to forgive him.

“No no no, Merlin, you’ve nothing to apologize for. You did your best,” Gwen whispered, eyes puffy. But his best was not enough, he was not enough. He told her as such and she only shook her head and told him to rest, they’d speak in the morning when they were both not so exhausted. Percival had slipped away at some point, no doubt gone to talk to Leon about what had happened.

Merlin only made his way back to his chambers through sheer willpower, or more likely a miracle. Gaius was waiting for him, and as promised he had his favorite meal and a kind, pitying smile waiting for him. He hated the pity. But Gaius was and had always been nothing but wonderful to him, so he sat and emptied the bowl. He doesn’t think he registered much of the taste, only that it felt like iron weights sinking into his throat and pulling him down. Merlin never ate that meal again.

He didn’t sleep that night. He couldn’t sleep, not with Morgana’s gurgled death cry ringing in his ears and Arthur’s fading blue eyes burned into his retinas.

Merlin mechanically went through conversation with Guinevere the next morning, recounting their journey to Avalon. He didn’t miss her flinch when he got to their encounter with Morgana. Gwen ended up calling a meeting of the round table that afternoon, and with Gwen at his side, Merlin announced his magic to the knights. Reactions ranged from the older knights of Uther’s reign jolting to their feet and drawing their swords to the younger knights having to pick their jaws up off the floor. Leon and Percival got them to calm down, but it still took the queen’s word to get them to sheathe their weapons. It was when she announced her repeal on the magic ban that the real yelling started. Ugly words were flying. Traditionalist knights cried that Gwen was only lying in wait for Arthur to die, that she planned it with Morgana, that she was a nasty little peasant _whore_ who’d been swayed by Merlin’s magic. Gwen, of course, did not stand for it and ordered them to hold their tongues or pay with a night in the dungeons. The traditionalists murmured no doubt mutinous words amongst them, but Merlin knew they would be dismissed by morning and replaced by more worthy knights.

This was the beginning of the golden age of Queen Guinevere.


	2. Denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen makes waves.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: panic attack and body horror (nightmare)

_“The king is dead!”_

Merlin held his breath. He couldn’t make himself actually go into the throne room when it came down to it, so there he was outside of the looming wooden doors, nails carving crescents into his palms.

 _“Long live the queen!”_ The words chased Merlin all the way back to his room, and he slammed the door quickly as though the phrase wielded a sharp knife.

He doesn’t know how he made it to his bed with the way the floor seemed to rear up at him, but he found himself suddenly suffocating into his pillow, stomach cramping so badly that he felt like he’d been gutted. Once he was down he could barely move, as though all the knights in Camelot were piled on top of him.

He only just managed to turn his head to breathe. His room was darker than it had been, which was only aided by the black spots fluttering teasingly in his field of vision. His breathing stuttered and then quickened, until he was sucking in breaths as quickly as they could leave him. He felt hot and cold at the same time, and started to tear feebly at his clothes. He only managed to remove his neckerchief before his arms dropped to the mattress, shivering violently and aching unpleasantly.

 _The king is dead!_ The silence surrounding him did nothing to drown out the two phrases that would not stop ringing in his ears. He pressed his palms to his head hard enough to hurt.

 _Long live the queen!_ A single tear stung his eye as it fell, leaving a blessedly cool path on his cheek and dropping to the sheets, where it joined the damp spots Merlin’s cold sweat had left. He fell asleep staring at them.

~~~

 _“Oh, Merlin.”_ It was too much work to open his eyes, but Merlin knew it was Gaius draping a blanket over him. He drifted back into unconsciousness.

~~~

Merlin was in a dimly-lit stone room. The walls were green with moss and lichen, and the edges of the chambers were beginning to flower. Lily of the valley, ivy, mountain laurel, oleander. A glance upwards told him that countless objects were suspended in the air where the ceiling would be. He could make out several keys, two colorful bottles of perfume, and a hairbrush all rotating gently midair before his gaze slid back to the room.

Something was dripping, making a soft splat each time it hit the floor, but Merlin couldn’t see any water. And he wasn’t too sure where the light was coming from, but it allowed him to make out a woman’s figure, hunched and rocking slowly from side to side opposite him.

Suddenly Merlin’s vision sharpened. Her back was to him, but the woman’s stringy dark hair and shredded black dress gave her away.

“...’Gana?”

_“Emrys.”_

All at once, the objects that had floated so peacefully flew at him with a vengeance as Morgana hurled herself across the room, knocking him down and pinning him to the floor. He began to sink into the icy stone like it was quicksand, struggling helplessly. He tried to magic himself free, but his eyes only burned gold momentarily and fizzled out, like someone had tossed water onto the fire that was his power.

He heard a chuckle, and his gaze snapped to Morgana. As they stared at each other, Merlin noticed that something wasn’t quite right with her eyes. They had always been a pale shade of green, but now they had an unsettling saturation to them that made her irises look like one of the deadly toxins Gaius was so fond of collecting. The poison was so real-looking, it almost seemed to drip out of her eyes and onto her cheeks.

Then Merlin felt something warm splash onto his forehead, and he realized that the poison was no illusion. She was _melting_. Her smirking lips were dribbling down her chin like some sort of terrible bloodred candle wax, and her eyes were bulging out of her head, threatening to fall straight into his slackened mouth.

 _“Traitor,”_ She whispered, red mouth continuing to blaze a trail down her neck.

 _“Betrayer,”_ A single white-hot drop of Morgana’s nose fell onto Merlin’s own.

And he _screamed_.

~~~

The next morning found Merlin very much _not_ well-rested like Gwen had asked of him. He'd ended up not wearing his neckerchief, as it felt too suffocating after the night before. At least his daze let him skip through most of the council meeting he’d been forced to go to.

Gwen had mentioned that she had a surprise for him that morning to cheer him up and that she was going to tell him at the meeting, but then she forgot it was a secret and told him anyway. He was to be the court sorcerer of Camelot, and the magic ban was going to be repealed that day.

He’s fairly certain he cried a bit, but Gwen was crying too, so that made it alright. The both of them seemed to cry easily those days.

~~~

The meeting was nearly over. From what Merlin could gather, it had been about having a proper service for Arthur, what to do about an heir, whether Guinevere should remarry, blah blah blah. It seemed pretty disrespectful to Gwen that they weren’t giving her any space to grieve, but at the moment Merlin was far more interested in cloud watching. He didn’t want to think about Arthur. Was he in denial? No. Shut up.

Gwen finally got his attention when she mentioned ‘a new law’ that she wanted to announce.

“This may come as a shock to you all, but I am repealing the ban on magic.” Much like yesterday with Merlin’s announcement to the knights, there was chaos. Most councillors stood and started yelling accusations and curses while a few just sat still in their seats, shellshocked. When they finally calmed down enough for Gwen to be heard, she spoke.

“I understand that this is frightening in your eyes, but I truly believe that this is for the better. For so many years, magic has been a source of fear to the people of Camelot. Hundreds of innocent men, women, and children have died because of their gifts, but many of those who were killed did not even have magic, and were only sentenced due to paranoia,” She didn’t say Uther’s name, but Merlin was sure they all heard it anyways. “With this repeal on the ban, I am hoping for true peace between Camelot and sorcerers. An alliance, if you will.” One of the councillors, a rather skinny man with rat-like features scoffed.

“An alliance? With whom? Those deviants have no leader.” Gwen’s lips quirked into a smile.

“And that is where you’re wrong. Tell me, councillor, have you ever heard the name Emrys?” The man frowned. “I’ll take that as a no. Yes, magic users are quite scattered at the moment, but they can all be united under this man. He is known as the most powerful warlock to walk the earth.” Murmurs erupted all around them, and Merlin had to bite back a sigh.

“Warlock? Is that another word for sorcerer?” Another man piped up. Merlin decided that that was his cue, and he stepped up to stand at Gwen’s right hand.

“No. A warlock is born with magic.” He said, linking his hands behind his back and straightening slightly. Several eyes turned to him, and the rattish man huffed again.

“And who are you to tell us what we know and don’t know about magic?” He asked snidely, and Gwen let out a ringing laugh, sharing a small smile with Merlin.

“Members of the court, I would like you to meet Emrys. Some of you may know him as Merlin, but others know him as the King of the Druids, or the most powerful warlock of all time.” The rat councillor paled, and the shouting began anew. It took at least half an hour to get the council to calm down this time, and by then Merlin had already been named court sorcerer, and the magic ban was repealed.


	3. Queen Gwen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glance back at Merlin's years in Camelot after Arthur's death.

Throughout the next couple of months, many brave magic users slowly trickled into Camelot’s gates to either settle back in with family or start a new life within the walls. That’s not to say there weren’t any difficulties. There was still a lot of animosity between the two groups, and it was a daily occurrence for the knights to break up a skirmish. 

However, slowly but surely, the fights were starting to happen less often as people got used to the new minority in town. Hate crimes against sorcerers were severely punished, as was the use of magic to hurt others. Percival was now head of the royal guard, and often led the charge of justice for both people with and without magic.

Merlin acted as an ambassador for magic. Essentially, his job was to help Gwen understand which spells should be outlawed, and magic users were often more comfortable coming to a fellow sorcerer for help, so he was also always present at the petitions the Queen held every week. 

Guinevere eventually did have to remarry around five years after Arthur’s passing; otherwise she wouldn’t have been able to produce an heir. With any other person, Merlin would’ve been inclined to try a little bit of sabotage or at the very least some pranking, but Leon was a good man. After Arthur died, Leon stayed by Gwen’s side as her most loyal knight, and supported her through her years ruling alone. Merlin couldn’t have thought of a better man to be by her side in the wake of Arthur’s passing. 

One of the things Merlin and Gwen had agreed upon when she married Leon was that while he was a great knight, he had never had any training to rule a country, so Gwen introduced a new law. The law allowed a married woman to rule, and so that spring, Leon was crowned King Consort the day he and Gwen wed. (Also, Merlin simply couldn’t bear to see any other man in Arthur’s spot.)

~~~

Merlin clearly remembers the first time he held Morgan in his arms. He was a tiny thing with golden brown curls, luminous dark eyes and dusky skin. For such a small child, however, he had made quite the fuss. Gwen had needed a midwife-witch’s assistance in order for the baby to come out properly, and the minute he took his first breath he started screeching. He had eventually calmed with some coddling from Gwen, but both she and Leon looked at least five years older as they tiredly (yet lovingly) gazed at their new son. 

Five years later brought Prince Lynn. Merlin had been floored when Gwen informed him that the child was to be named after him, and definitely shed a few tears into his soup after she told Merlin over lunch. Lynn came with the first snow that winter, and was a considerably easier birth than Morgan had been. 

The young prince in question was by now endeared to almost everyone in the kingdom, as his boisterous nature and habit of sneaking into the kitchens to chat with the servants made him quite popular amongst the people. The boy had been at first a bit affronted at the idea of a little sibling (“But mother, you already have me!”) but eventually warmed up to the idea of having another playmate aside from the cook’s seven-year-old son, Cerian, who he wandered around after like a duckling after it’s mother.

Lynn was a quiet yet righteous child, and Merlin predictably ended up being his favorite person aside from his family. He would often turn around and catch a head of cinnamon-and-honey curls ducking into the nearest corridor, hazel eyes peeking sheepishly around the corner. Eventually, he just took the boy along with him on his various trips to the forest to gather herbs for Gaius, with Gwen’s permission of course.

Merlin should’ve known that after such a lovely stretch of time, tragedy would strike. He could never be so lucky as to have his friends live as long as he, although Merlin would never condemn them to that fate. Gaius had been fading for months by then, but he finally succumbed to old age in his sleep several nights after Yule the year Morgan turned ten. Merlin visited Gaius’ old chambers the next night. 

He’d taken a bit of a self-guided tour around the whole room, running his fingers over the tired spines of books Merlin had read time and time again, climbing up to the loft to blow dust off of a few boxes (Gaius hadn’t been able to get up there for years), and finally found himself in his old bedroom. Gaius had moved back in after Merlin had transferred to his new chambers, so his father’s things were laid out everywhere like he’d just gone to run an errand. It was dark by then, so Merlin carefully laid himself down on the nearby daybed and softly whimpered into the pillow, holding himself until restless sleep claimed him. 

First Arthur, now the only father he’d ever truly known. 

~~~

The little princess had been a bit of a surprise. 

First off, the King Consort and Queen had thought themselves too old to have any more children, as Gwen was late into her thirties by then. Morgan was fifteen and struggling with hormones, and Lynn was ten and starting to show a bit of an attitude. Second, the new princess had magic. 

Merlin had been able to feel it before Gwen even knew she was pregnant. 

“Oh Gwen, I’ve been meaning to ask, have you been practicing magic lately?” Gwen laughed and set her cup back onto the table.

“Merlin, I wish I could say yes, but Laudine determined me unable to practice years ago.” Laudine was Guinevere’s sorceress bodyguard and a good friend to both of them. She was a formidable woman with a heart of gold. Each member of the royal family had a magic user in their employ, both as a symbol of good faith and to combat against possible magical threats. Merlin frowned into his tea. 

“That’s strange, because I can clearly sense a magical signature coming from… your… ah.” 

“What is it?”

“I think you may be pregnant with a little sorcerer.” 

Ellie came into the world with the next summer’s heat wave, squalling and waving her little fists as her dark eyes flashed with gold, much like coins glinting in the sun. She’d upended a chair within minutes of her birth, much to the surprise of poor Leon, who’d been sitting on said chair at the time. It was strange for a sorcerer to be born to a magic-less family, but not uncommon. 

She’d been named in honor of Elyan. Merlin knew that it weighed on Gwen some days, both her role in his death and the fact that she hadn’t been herself at the time to properly grieve, but he also knew that she was for the most part at peace with her brother’s passing after all this time. 

~~~

Over the years, the royal siblings had proved themselves to be a pain in Merlin’s backside. 

Lynn often snuck off to the healer’s tower in the east wing to learn medicine (not that anyone was against it, he was simply supposed to be in his etiquette lessons at the time), Ellie often found new and interesting ways to lure animals that she found cute into her chambers with her magic (this included a mother bear and her two cubs, which Merlin found curled up on Ellie's bed with Ellie against the mama bear's stomach like she was just another cub), and Merlin had caught Morgan not once, not twice, but four times in various closets with his tongue down Cerian’s throat. And all before Ellie even turned four summers old.

Lynn eventually got his way and was apprenticed to healer Carinor at age sixteen. The young prince had grown from a quiet, chubby boy to a confident, tall, strapping young man with muscles to rival many of the knights. He blamed his metabolism, Merlin blamed his crush on a neighboring kingdom’s princess and the need to show off. At the tender age of six, Ellie found much glee in pranking everyone in the castle aside from her parents and Merlin. Her parents because her mother had mastered Gaius’ famous Eyebrow of Shame, and Merlin because he could sense her coming a mile away, being the one who’d taught her all of her tricks. 

Morgan had recently been named crown prince in a beautiful ceremony followed by a ball after his twenty-first birthday, and Merlin had mercifully turned a blind eye to the prince sneaking away from the festivities with Cerian in tow. The two had remained close as ever throughout the years, and Merlin had a betting pool with Lynn and Leon about when they would marry. Morgan had stayed small throughout the years, true to his size when he was born but a far cry from his younger brother. He’d grown from a skinny child to a lanky teenager to a slender young man, much like Merlin himself. But he had to hand it to the boy, he had great taste in men. Cerian had always been tall, but now he towered at least a full foot measurement over Morgan. His smooth, dark skin, kind green-brown eyes and gentle nature had always made him popular with the staff of the castle, but he only ever had eyes for Morgan. 

The two weren’t very subtle, so their relationship was often the talk of the town. 

~~~

Leon ended up winning the bet when the two jumped the broom at a druid festival not two summers after Morgan was named crown prince. Leon and Gwen of course scolded the boys, but they were beaming by the end of their speech at the thought of grandchildren so it was taken rather lightly. They ended up having a more formal ceremony later anyways. 

Lynn was now eighteen and doing very well in his apprenticeship. His not having magic had been a bit of an obstacle at first, but he’d more than made up for it by discovering new uses for several common herbs. He could often be found practicing archery with Morgan or teaching Ellie how to make simple remedies.

Ellie had at first struggled with the age gap between herself and her siblings, but grew up fast to make up for it. She was only eight but was already well-versed in academics and court conversation. On the other hand, she was a bit of a wild card. Merlin would just as soon find himself in intelligent debates at his tea times with the little princess as find her stuck in a tree in the courtyard. 

And when Ellie was fifteen summers, Lynn twenty-five, and Morgan thirty, the Queen and King Consort retired and Morgan and Cerian took their places, along with their six-year-old adoptive twin daughters. Merlin can easily picture the panic on Morgan’s face as Merlin, Ellie, and Lynn comforted him the day of he and Cerian’s coronation.

“Uncle, what if I’m not ready?” Morgan wailed, face pressed into Cerian’s ever-patient shoulder. Ellie patted her brother’s back sympathetically and Lynn rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Morgan,” Merlin huffed. He’d gotten more Dragoon-ish in his old age. “You’ve quite literally been training for this your entire life.”

“He’s right, darling,” Cerian soothed, wrapping an arm around his husband’s shoulders. “You know how to do this, and Val, Ana, and I will be there for you the whole way.” Valeria and Analisa were their twins. Both girls were brave young ladies with tan skin, curly dark hair, and amber eyes. Morgan huffed before pulling away from Cerian just enough to view the other people in the room. 

“Group hug?” He asked meekly. There were a few groans from his siblings, but they wrapped their arms around their brother anyways. Merlin stood back from the group until Ellie glared at him.

“Get in here, old bat.” She snickered, and Merlin sighed but obeyed.


End file.
